just twin fire signs, four blue eyes
by bodyeletric
Summary: "We make good music together, babe." Daryl kisses her hand and sniffles, because shit, he has never heard a more beautiful thumping sound and never seen such a pretty peanut. - Bethyl AU, Complete.


**A/N: **I wrote this way too quickly for my own sake, and this is unbeta'ed, so please forgive any unseen mistakes. My first language is not English so please bear with me. Shamelessly fluffy!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Walking Dead or Beth and Daryl would've lived happily ever after on the funeral house. Title is a lyric from_ State of Grace, _by Taylor Swift. (You'll get it in the end).

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><p>When Beth finds out she's pregnant, hell breaks loose.<p>

At least to her, it does. The last few weeks had been unbearable, leaving her with the intense desire to just crawl out of her own skin. It all makes sense now: her mood swings (it's too early for those, so she can only imagine how it'll be like further on), the impression that none of her jeans fit and the fact that Daryl couldn't even sneeze without irritating her to her breaking point.

When she sits with the white stick in hands, the pharmacy bag still coiled up on the floor next to the toilet, she feels so dumb she actually wants to slap herself. She was a _nurse, _for God's sake, how could've she ignored her missing period and all of the other signs? - the sore breasts will kill her, she's sure of it - and how, in the name of everything that's holy, is she supposed to tell her husband?

He's not even her husband, not officially, to begin with, and that makes her melt in another share of angry tears. It had sounded like a good idea four years ago, when they agreed they didn't need the marriage license and all of that crap, just each other, and so it had been. Now, however, it all seemed dumb and unfair to her, really, that she didn't get the fairytale wedding and the white dress (even though she didn't even want those in the first place, she's emotional, so she has the right to be a victim right now).

And she can't even get started on their fucking apartment. It's a shoebox and it had fitted its purpose but there is no way on Earth they can raise a baby there, so Beth adds moving to the endless list of cons this having-a-baby-thing is bringing her, and ends up crying in the kitchen again when she's making dinner and burns Daryl's hamm because _shit, _she's a vegetarian and she'll have to start eating fish and chicken and all of the rest again, and that is just fan-fucking-tastic.

He gets home early that night, with the usual stray of hair over one of his eyes and lower lip between his teeth. Daryl kisses her on the cheek before he takes his place in the table while she finishes with his hamm because she had to start it all again when the _fucker _grabs a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and she just snaps.

"Put those away." Beth's voice is a lot lower than she first intended to, otherwise she'd be screaming and Daryl doesn't deal with that well.

"What?" He asks, and she's not sure if it's because he didn't hear her or because the smell never really bothered her during all the nine years they had been together and the other four they lived together, but she doesn't care, she just loses it.

"_Those._" She glances at the pack of cigarettes as she exits the kitchen so they're face to face again. "Put those things away or I swear to God you'll sleep on the street tonight."

He widens his eyes, and does as he was told. Beth almost huffs when he starts playing with a toothpick immediately after. "Fuck, Daryl, what is even your problem?" She glances at his hands and he opens his mouth to really speak for the first time in the evening, but she doesn't let him. "You are so insenstive! I had to come back earlier from work because I was getting sick again and after I went to the pharmacy, what did I do? Yes! I cooked your goddamn dinner and my hair smells like meat but why the hell am I even complaining, right?" She lets out a humourless laugh and now she can tell Daryl really is dumbstruck. "I might as well get used to it! I'll have to eat beefs and shit again and when the baby's born I'll just be a stay-home-mom with no job except turning into a zombie that midnight feeds and changes diapers!"

Beth's so caught up in her own anger she didn't realize she had told him about the pregnancy that, a) she certainly had not planned to tell him this way and b), they had never talked about the possibility of. She cools down, then, and she hates herself even more now instead of feeling better. He had done nothing to really make her angry and he had spent the whole day working so he was obviously tired. Her fingers fidget with her braid and she looks down at the wooden floor, and murmurs, "So, yeah. I'm pregnant."

Daryl sighs, and he's up from his chair in a second, and his hand forces her chin up and his ridiculously blue eyes meet hers and suddenly she's as calm as she could ever be. How could she ever be mad at him? The man's like a bottomless pit of all that's good in this world. "How long?" He asks, and Beth says she has found out that very same day. "We'll be fine, blondie." Daryl brushes the thin layer of sweat that formed on her forehead as he calls her by their old pet name, kissed the tip of her nose and then put one of his big, though gentle hands over her flat stomach. "Just fine."

She believes him.

* * *

><p>"You are eleven years older than me. Don't you think that our child will asks us why someday? And what will we even answer?"<p>

They're sitting on the waiting room to her very first doctor's appointment, and Daryl refrains from taking a deep breath. Over the last two weeks since she told him about the baby, he had managed to put some sense into her head, but he hadn't knocked up any girl, he had knocked up his girl, and Beth was so goddamn paranoid, has always been. She needs him, so he reminds her of every pro that this kid will bring, and she's beginning to see, but she always comes up with a new fear and he knows it's gonna be like this until their pup's out.

"We'll tell her the truth, 's what we'll do. That her mom was just the sweetest little ass in the diner her dad went to 'fter work, and that'll be it." It makes her laugh, and it earns him a slap on the shoulder, so he knows it's fine. One less fear down, a million more to go. She doesn't know it, but he's scared to death too. They never talked about having a kid, he has no idea how to take care of one, and he still has a lot of questions to how the hell a condom doesn't work when it sure hell had done it's job all the way through their relationship. His dad had been a fuck up, and the dad before his too, so how is he supposed to do this? It's a _kid _they're talking about. _His _kid. He likes to refer to the baby as a she, though. It's one of the only thing that calms him down, imagining a little girl with Beth's blonde hair and fair skin.

They call her name before he thinks too much about it again, and he swallows hard as they're engulfed by the doctor's office. He asks her a bunch of vagina-y questions he would rather not listen the answer to, but not to long after they're taken to a chair next to a machine and he knows what's about to happen. Daryl squeezes Beth's hand, and the doctor says something about a gel but his eyes are glued to the small screen, and when it changes, the image is black and white and he sure as hell doesn't pay a fortune on their health plan for such a shitty quality but then he hears it and his mind shuts down.

It's a thumping sound, steady and loud, matching a small gray peanut shaped dot that pulses on the very same rythym. "That's our baby." Beth points to the screen with a shaky finger, and of course she knows what it is, she's one hell of a smart nurse. When she turns to him she's smiling so wide he knows all of her doubts are silenced, at least for a moment, and he's about to tease her for crying when their baby doesn't even look like it's real when he notices his cheeks are all wet too.

"We make good music together, babe." Daryl kisses her hand and sniffles, because shit, he has never heard a more beautiful thumping sound and never seen such a pretty peanut.

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><p>Beth obsesses about every little inch of her growing baby bump, and she loves it. Loves running her hands through it, loves spreading milk-scented cream through it, loves singing to it, loves how it gets bigger every day, but mostly, she loves how Daryl interacts with it. He has his palms over it whenever he can, and he loves to talk to their baby as well.<p>

He calls it Peanut, an habit he had ever since the doctor printed them scans of the first ultrasound and he put one on his wallet and one on the fridge and even had one framed for his office. She remembers when she stopped by his work one day to drop him lunch and spotted him behind his desk, pointing to the little gray thing behind the glass and asking his co-worker and friend Tyreese, "D'ya see it? S' my baby. Ain't she the most beautiful gal?" It's so cute it makes her feel all funny inside, how he's already so proud of their baby.

She asks him how can he be so sure it's a girl all of the time, and he just shrugs and asks her to let him be, but she confesses she's into his little fantasy before she can even stop herself. It's all too surreal, how she went from a list to all-cons to all-pros to having a child, but she doesn't care. Beth's to be a mother, and she knows there's nothing in this world that feels half as incredible as having a family with Daryl does.

He's quiet, however, the day he's driving them back home from the appointment they do confirm they're having a girl. He had smiled and kissed her when the doctor announced it, but still, she expected more talking, because her mind sure as hell was popping with baby names. Daryl hangs his coat when they arrive, and she follows him into the bedroom. He sits on the edge of the bed and stares at the ceiling. His hands reach out for his right pocket, where his cigarettes used to be, but he dropped them the day she told him about the baby, and when she sits next to him, there's no reaction. "Talk to me." She requests, then. Quietly.

"She deserves more, Beth." His voice is even heavier than usual, and she frowns, but he goes on before she can wonder aloud. "The baby. She deserves more than me."

Beth's heart drops in her chest and her throat aches as she shakes her head. She had heard the very same talk before, years before, when he told her the very same thing just as their relationship had begun to make progress. "Y'both do, sweetheart. S'always been true. Y'didn't want to accept it before, but you gotta now." Daryl sighs, and two tears fall from both her eyes as she blinks them away and tries to make out an answer because he _can't _think like that. He just can't.

"Please don't say that." Beth begs him, and he looks at her for the first time since the appointment. "You are an incredible man. I love you so much- _we _love you, so, so much. There is no man I would rather have by my side now, or for the rest of my life." She doesn't want to cry, and she feels pathetic, that it's the best she can say to him. Daryl's has always been insecure due to his deadbeat father and the life he had been given, and from time to time those fears came back. She should've seen it coming.

"You've seen m'scars, Beth. You see 'em ev'ry night, so ask yourself, how can I ever be a good dad to our girl after the way I was raised?" His tone is lighter now, and his face is so stained with sadness it _enrages _her. She wants to travel back to the past, to make Father Dixon suffer for everything he has put his son through. Instead, she slides her hand inside the front of his pants and grabs the old pocket watch that used to be her dad's.

"My father hasn't given this to half a man, nor half a dad. He gave this to a man so good he considered him his _son, _scarred or not." More tears flow free from her eyes as she puts the pocket watch in one of her husband's hand. "And I have married this man, never regreted it, not once, not even a day." One of her hands are in his hair now, and she pulls him to his chest. Thankfully, he doesn't resist. "I have and will keep waking up with a smile on my face knowing you're next to me, Daryl, and that you're the one who made this baby inside me. If that doesn't make you enough, I don't know what will."

He's clutching to her now, and it's good to have a reaction; it's crises averted, for now. Beth can see his other hand holding tight to the pocket watch, and she knows she has gotten to him, thank God. "I love you, Beth. Don't say it nearly as much as I should, but I do." He buries his face in her chest, but she shakes her head. He tells her just as much as she needs to hear.

* * *

><p>Their shoebox apartment is good enough for now, as he manages to convice Beth.<p>

They will the small spare room as a nursery, at least until the baby's older, then they can think of getting a bigger place. The discussion involving the color of the walls is nearly as intense as the one about baby names - they still haven't decided, poor girl's still just Peanut Dixon. Beth wants pink, and he says it's a cliché and that maybe their baby will like blue. After two good hours wasted on the store, however, they both agree on a light green, and it doesn't take him more than a day to finish the job.

They have to buy the furniture and some of the clothing (everything baby sized is so fucking expensive, he swears), but the toys and the rest of the onesies, coats, socks and shoes come from the ridiculously extravagant baby shower Beth's sister, Maggie, and his wife's best friend, Amy, throw her when she's seven months along. Thank fucking God his presence wasn't needed during the event or he would've died from the collective squeals while Beth opened up the gifts. It takes them nearly two days to get everything in place inside the baby's room, but when they do, he has to admit it looks hella cute.

He wakes up one night to an empty bed, and doesn't have to search for too long before he finds Beth in the center of the nursery, hands on her round stomach as she repositions the plushies on the shelves (and ends up putting them the exact same place either). "S' wrong?" He asks, and she shrugs. "Peanut's been poking you again?" Beth giggles and nods, because hell, their kid sure as hell did have something against her mom's bladder.

"It's about time we find her a name." Beth sighs happily when he comes closer and kisses her on the mouth. "She's due in a few weeks and I'd like to have you know we're not naming our child Peanut." She smirks.

"Good luck try'na find one name as good as Peanut then." He shrugs playfully, sits on the swinging chair (it took him hours to get used to that fucking thing) and pulls her into his lap. She curls against his chest and his hands on her belly when he feels one of the steady kicks. Beth starts humming, then, and he prays she'll sing, because there's nothing sweeter or more soothing than her voice. She does, then, finally, and she's singing _Lucy In the Skies with Diamonds _when it hits him.

"Lucy." He says bluntly, and she raises her head from his chest, and smiles one of her big Beth smiles, he knows they have their name.

* * *

><p>When Beth goes to labour, hell <em>really <em>does break loose.

She's moody from being huge and way past her due date. Her feet are huge, her back aches and Lucy can't seem to find anything else to do _but _poke her fucking bladder and she has to go to the bathroom every five seconds. Daryl's been an angel, giving her massages and motivational pep talks, but she just needs this baby out, really. They've tried everything, from spicy food to sex to induce birth but nothing seems to work.

Daryl's playing some stupid shooting game on his Xbox - she doesn't care if it's called _Karma Duty _or _Call of Duty, _she's getting rid of those once the baby's old enough - when it happens. She's about to ask him to lower the volume of the television when she stops mid sentence when her water breaks all over the rug.

"The bag! Get the bag!" She waves her hand in the direction of the nursery desperately and it takes Daryl a minute to realize this is serious before he rushes in and out again, baby bag over his shoulder and car keys in hand.

"What are you waitin' for, girl? Let's go!" He glances at the open door of the apartment until Beth gently reminds him he's only in his underwear and it's the middle of December.

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><p>After a whole lot of swearing - <em>you are never touching me again, Daryl Dixon! Fuck you and your dick! <em>- and twelve hours of pushing, Lucy Ann Dixon comes to the world, all petite and screaming with a set of lungs that could only come from Beth.

There's a tad bit of chaos as they cut the cord and clean and weigh the baby, but he's kissing his wife to the soundtrack of Lucy's healthy baby cries and all is good in the world. They're both crying too, of relief and happiness. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." Daryl murmurs against Beth's sweaty hair as he holds her, because he's sure he has never gotten any gift better than this six pounded, tiny, tiny little thing that isn't even the size of his two hands together.

Finally, the nurse hands Beth their baby, and the smile in the face of his wife is so bright it's like the sun was inside that very room. It had always been that way with Beth, though. From the minute he met her, she was like a guiding star, a wave of everything that's better, and he was sure, looking at the little bundle wrapped in pink, that his daughter already was the exact same way. Her mother, his sun, and Lucy, his star. "She's so tiny." Beth marveled, pressing a kiss to the baby's forehead. "And look at her hair!" She ran a hand over the tuff of so-blonde hair that it could barely even been seen, but it was there.

"We have another blondie in the house, 'seems." Daryl winked over to his wife as he admired Lucy's delicate features. She was like Beth all over, thank God for that. Beth gave their daughter another kiss before holding her arms out for him, and he panicks because _fuck _what if he drops her and what if he hurts her? Maybe they should wait until she's a little bigger, but then Beth stares at him with that look that says she believes him, so he does.

He holds her to his chest, and he doesn't dare to even breathe because she's his daughter, and every little inch of her is just pure perfection. He doesn't know how he had been so afraid before, afraid of this tiny wailing thing that now quietly rests against him. It's only been five seconds, but he knows she has belonged there all along. "Hey, Peanut." It seems like the nickname will stick, and when her little hand wraps around his finger while she sleeps his heart stops a little, but he speaks again. "I hope you know you're only allowed to date when you're thirty." Beth giggles at that, and as in cue, Lucy opens her eyes sleeply, and both parents hold in a breath.

"She has your eyes." Beth kisses his cheek and sinks back against the bed, falling asleep from exhaustion just mere seconds later, but he's too mesmerized, too in love with tiny little Lucy to even think of letting her go.

(He reluctantly does when the nurse says they have to take her for tests, but he stalks his daughter through every room of the hospital while they're at it).

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><p>The baby turns one before he can even blink and it messes with him because hell, she's a year closer to going to daycare and then college. She's practically married herself! He's sure that the next time he opens his eyes, Lucy will have kids of herself, and it drives him crazy, how she's slipping through his fingers and it's only been a year.<p>

Fine, so maybe he's a little bit overprotective - Beth has to call out on him on many situations already, but it never works - and he doesn't really care, because any one who takes a look at Lucy knows she's the most beautiful girl in the whole world, and he'd be a shit head not to want to look after her. She still has her mother's fair skin and light blonde hair and his dark blue eyes, and she's so small it's actually hilarious to look as she walks through the apartment with her chubby legs and toothy smile.

"Daddy." She says pointedly as she sits in her lap that afternoon, and points to the screen of the television. Her mother's asleep, she knows it, and damn her for being so goddamn smart already.

"You're a minx." Daryl playfully bites her nose as she scoops closer to him. The Xbox is on in a minute, and _Call of Duty _blasts through the speakers in a low volume so Beth won't wake up and give him shit. Lucy's giggling so hard while he plays, though - because the girl likes to see him shoot at zombies, figures - that he knows it'll be worth it if Beth gets mad at him for this later.

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><p><strong>AN: **I really hope you've enjoyed this, for I loved writing it! ^^


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